


Third Time's The Charm

by OhMyGlobWhatthefrickamievendoing



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But then this is joker so what would you expect, F/M, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Total mixing of comic and tv canon, Twisted and unhealthy feelings, dark themes, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMyGlobWhatthefrickamievendoing/pseuds/OhMyGlobWhatthefrickamievendoing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Resurrection was really not all it was made out to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Time's The Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Um....  
> Ugh....  
> Oops?

 

Life and death. Concepts too – what’s the word... _grand_? to be understood by little _human_ minds and people fear the unknown don’t they? And so they seek to control it. They think themselves a _**god** just because_ they created electricity from a turnip in some fancy lab _but we all know god doesn’t really ex-ist cause if he did would he **REALLY** create such a **SICK** -ly lil’ species like us!?!?_ Ahem – got a bit -ha- side tracked there didn’t I _( guess we all gotta channel our inner Lex at sometime huh) **see**_ the thing here is that when _people (strange lil’ doctors -AhahHahahHHAHAha **geddit** ) decide they’re god_ and start playing with death in their lil’ un ** _der_** ground _labs_ they _sometimes_ get kinda...carried away...and bring back things that probably _really really_ shouldn’t have been brought back... _ya know?_

 

* * *

 

It’s bright. That’s the first thought. He can’t feel anything. That’s the second. He can’t move. That’s the third. There are voices. That’s the fourth. He can’t remember anything. That’s the fifth. His face feels... _funny._ That’s the sixth.

  
They all make their course through his head in the space of one second.

  
He listens to the disembodied voice. Patient 0801 it calls him.

  
He tries to talk he can’t. We sewed it shut says the voice. It made our doctors...uncomfortable it continues. The smile it elaborates.

  
People in white flock around him. Poke at him. He lets them. It’s when one of them gets too close that he strikes ramming his head against theirs. He’s not sure what he does but the sting of the needles tearing through his skin makes him finally _finally_ feel something.

  
Patient shows excessive aggression. No outward sign of meta human abilities. Extremely violent. Says the voice in the background as he sinks his fingers into the eyes of a blonde woman. _Squishy he thinks._

  
Once they are all dead _(like you were whispers a sing song voice in his head)_ and the room is no longer blindingly white _(red is such a pretty colour)_ he flits his eyes to find what he wants. A small pretty lil’ sharp thing _(scalpel supplies his head though he doesn’t know how he would know that. I’m crazy kiddo not stupid says his head.)_ He clutches it and _skips_ over to the mirror _(one way mirror. They’re watching you.)_ And looks at himself. He’s thin. Too thin. _(Can people even starve while they’re dead)_ His eyes are sunken and his skin is pale _(and really you’d think scientists or doctors or whatever these people are would know how to sew shut a mouth better because this is, to be quite frank, atrocious!)_ And all around he really just looks like death warmed over _(hahahahaahahaAH.)_ He looks up at where he _knows_ they are and digs the scalpel into where his mouth should be.... _(well you know how this goes don’t ya? **“do you wanna know how I got these scars?”** )_

  
It _hurts_ but that’s okay because he’s feeling _something._ There’s blood. A lot of it. But that’s okay because it wets his dry throat and it lets him laugh and laugh and _laugh._

 

* * *

 

Escape after that isn’t difficult. He sits and waits till they send someone for him. He doesn’t move or talk while he waits. They’ll send someone eventually. _He’s too intriguing not to._ He makes his move when they come. It’s easy _(they are letting you escape says his voice. They’re **releasing** you to **study** you like a lab rat or **even** a lab **bat.** )_ He’s fast and he’s dangerous and he’s resourceful. He’s also smart _which is j-ust so **funny** since he couldn’t really remem-ber much ‘bout anything and his head itself was moving much too...fast._

 

* * *

 

In an ugly little house in the narrows where a family of three lay gutted _( B. Atman said the rusty old nameplate)_ he discovered he was even worse at stitching than the doctors _but really if he was going to be honest there was something almost charming about the grotesque smile that stretched from ear to ear._

 

* * *

 

He found out a lot about himself in the year that was to pass.

  
_He could hotwire a car but he had no consideration for the rules of the road...or any rule in general._

  
_He could use a gun but he preferred a knife...so much more personal._

  
_He knew how to talk a person into doing what he wanted and he could create just the darnest concoctions from a few chemicals...he thinks he may have read them somewhere...a library...rather than the alternative of being taught them at a school._

  
_He couldn’t keep his hands still and he loved magic tricks...the ones with cards were just the best!_

  
_He rarely ate...he found it to be a waste of time...and he rarely slept...his mind was too loud and too fast for it to allow him any proper sleep._

  
_He couldn’t feel. Both emotionally and physically. Only pain seemed to get a reaction out of him._

  
_He was bored._

  
_He was alone._

  
_He had no real reason to exist._

 

* * *

 

He called himself Jack because it was easy.

 

* * *

 

He ignores the voice that whispers to him in its sing song tone _kill kill kill_

 

* * *

 

He tries to be normal and do what normal people do even if he doesn’t understand _why they behave the way they do._ So he tries to date.

Her name is Jeanie Napier and she’s the most normal person he has ever met except _except_ she laughs at his jokes and smiles at him with all the patience in the world and she doesn’t flinch at his _smile_ instead she traces a long scar and smiles sadly whispering, _“This is Gotham”_ as if it explains everything.

 

* * *

 

It’s after he kills her that he decides it’s time he chose a career path more suitable for his abilities.

 

* * *

 

Jeanie is pregnant and nobody laughed at his jokes at the Komedy Klub and they are struggling and _he’s struggling because his voice won’t **SHUT UP** as it whispers to him **kill kill kill** and it all just piles up until he **cracks.**_

 

* * *

 

“Oh,” says Jeanie sad and disappointed and just a little bit angry because she has a baby and they don’t have food and _Jack_ was supposed to get the _goddamned_ job.

 

* * *

 

“Oh,” says Jeanie and he just **_cracks_.**

  
When he comes back to himself Jeanie is smiling and Jeanie is _dead_ and he sees his baby for the first time. A girl. _He would have named her Duela he thinks distractedly._

 

* * *

 

He goes to the Penguin after that because _everyone_ knows he’s Gotham kingpin no matter what the Black Mask says.

 

* * *

 

Penguin hires all his employees personally.

  
“ Says neva ta underestimate even the lowest ranking fella,” grunts an oversized goon when Jack questions it.

  
And so here he is, after a preliminary safety check, sitting at one end of a ridiculously long dining table and looking at a short, fat man who had his nose _(and ooh what a nose it was)_ buried in a stack of papers _(it’s a power play. Showing he’s not interested. It’s a power play.)_

  
“ Why do you want to work for me?”

  
_(Huh so mob interviews and job interviews are not that different after all)_

  
“Welll I heard that you stand tall for what you believe in and tend to do your business with the least amount of ruffled feathers.”

  
This earns him a sharp look from the Penguin who straightens in his seat to stare at Jack. He doesn’t seem bothered by the scars and Jack thinks that shows he’s a Gothamite through and through.

  
“And why would I want you to work for me?”

  
“Umm well not to be boastful or anything but I’ve been told I have a -huh- _killer_ personality **_and_** an _absolute-ly_ bea-u-tiful smile ta boot! “

  
“Bit of a joker aren’t you.”

  
“I prefer Jack.”

 

* * *

 

Getting hired after that is more or less easy.

  
After Jack makes some more “tasteless” jokes _(everyone’s a critique)_ and Penguin threatens to toss him to some giant cannibalistic man-crocodile thing _(Gotham)_ he’s hired and he trudges through the process of moving up the ladder.

 

* * *

 

He still feels numb and dead but at least he’s not bored anymore.

 

* * *

 

He thinks he must have earned the ol’ bird’s trust when he is appointed the new leader of the Red Hood gang – a small time gang that had grown in size and popularity after becoming affiliated with the Penguin.

  
As the leader of the Red Hoods Jack’s fame _grows_ until he’s probably as well known as Zsasz. _Zsasz had not bothered to hide his snort when Jack had proclaimed this._

 

* * *

 

Things weren’t good _(it’s hard to shake off being dead once you’ve actually been dead ya know?)_ but they weren’t bad either so it only stood for reason that things were going to turn terrible soon enough _(or perfectly **perfect** depending on how you looked at it)_

 

* * *

 

It was _supposed_ to be an easy job. An in and out of Ace Chemicals.

  
But it wasn’t _of course it wasn’t because suddenly there was a monster. A bat. A **man.** And Jack could feel his heart **stutter** and his hands start to shake more than they usually did, and he was sweating (but that may have been the fire that had taken over the whole plant) and for the first time **for the first time** his head was silent. No haphazard thoughts. No whispering voice. No bright (too quick) flashes of memories that he could never grasp. All because of this man **this beautifully insane man dressed as a fucking bat and beating the crap out of Jack’s men** and Jack’s heart was beating erratically and he felt alive. So completely **alive.** And oh. **Ohhh.** The man -this **Batman** \- was looking at him **now.** Angry and glaring and beautiful._

_And he’s alive and he’s flying._ No wait. He’s falling. Down, down, **_down._** And the man was yelling and running towards him - arm outstretched - reaching towards him – his black gloved fingers brushing against Jack’s white ones before he’s engulfed in a liquid that _seeps_ into him, down to his very bones and _burns_ him from the inside out.

 

* * *

 

Jack may have always been a bit of a klutz.

 

* * *

 

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, _years??? later he’s on a river bank and it’s raining (he’d like to think it’s for the dramatic effect but this is Gotham and it always rains) and he’s still burning so so very badly but he **feels** and not just the pain, he feels giddy and happy and angry. He feels utter hatred and pure love. He feels that he **fin-ally** had a **purpose** and he knows **exactly** what that is._

  
**_“Batsssyyyy~”_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments??? Cause i'm attention starved and would love feedback??? =3


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